The Running of Time (The 100)
by TheBlueBird14
Summary: Clarke finds Bellamy, Finn and the others under dangerous circumstances. This is a continuation of The 100's S02E03, and Clarke is finally reunited with her friends who she thought were dead. The story will go on from there, and not necessarily follow the shows storyline from that point forward. The narrative will be in 3rd person, showing different characters points of view.Enjoy!
1. No Small Talk

The sudden, almost imperceptible rustling of the leaves alerted Bellamy to the possibility of danger. He halted, drawing his gun out, ready to shoot at anything that moved.

'Stop.' he whispered.

Immediately, the rest of the group, like a well-oiled machine, aimed their guns at the trees, scanning them for movement. Bellamy was painfully forced to remember that the guns they held for protection were just for show. He was out of bullets, and he doubted anyone else had more than a couple left. Bullets ran out as fast as water. They were vulnerable, and left to the mercy of the grounders. Their weapons instilled little fear in their enemies and would be no deterrent to their aggression.

Surveying his surroundings, he caught a glimpse of a shadow on the corner of his eye. This time, he noticed golden flickers of hair flying through the air. He quickly took in this very familiar shape and his mind made sense of it all. The blood drained from his face, and his grip on the gun faltered.

'Clarke.' Bellamy's voice resonated throughout the woods, wavering ever so slightly.

Clarke froze, her feet stuck to the ground. 'Bellamy?' She uttered as she turned her head around. Finn rapidly caught up to speed on what had just happened and blurted her name out like it was a secret he was dying to tell. 'Clarke!' And as he said that, he could feel the mix of adrenaline and relief running in his veins, his tense body relaxing all at once, while he rushed towards her.

'Finn.' She was on the brink of crying, her voice remarkably shaky.

'Oh my God, Finn. You're alive. I thought...' She didn't care what she thought anymore. Clarke was prudent enough to know that they might have not made it, but she also knew enough about herself to know she didn't believe in that for a split second.

She fell into his embrace, longing to be held.

'You're safe.' Incredulity and assurance crept up on his words, as he whispered them softly against Clarke's ears.

Bellamy felt strangely inappropriate standing there. He always knew they'd eventually find her, and the others. He felt the urge to move towards her but he wasn't sure what he'd do next. Just in case, he hid his feet lower into the dirt, and went against his primary instincts, once more.

'Where are the others? Have you seen Octavia?' Not knowing if his sister was safe or not was unbearable. He thought he'd always have her by his side, that he'd always be able to protect her. Clarke's face contorted into a desperate and worried expression, a look he recognized all too well.

The pang of guilt and despair resurfaced and sped up her heartbeat. The shackles she'd been carrying screwed themselves tighter around her ankles, and more weight clung to her skin, bruising it. The lives of her people were in her hands. She broke away from Finn arms.

'I was the only one to escape. She wasn't there Bellamy.' She looked directly into his eyes, trying to shorten the distance between them and somehow comfort him. They were stern and remained unchanged by this news.

The thought of Anya hit her like a bullet to the chest.

Every second they wasted reminiscing the times that weren't they'd be closer to death. The grounders might already be surrounding them, letting them say their last goodbye. Clarke started to move forward.

'We have to go, now. Grounders might be close.' There was no time for explanations. She looked over to the group as they moved. Bellamy was ahead, holding tight to his gun, ready for anything. His eyes wide open with determination. Silvia was trying to keep up with him. Clarke didn't know her very well, but she looked well equipped for a battle, although fear flashed across her face every couple of seconds. Behind were Finn and Dan, covering the woods with their eyes, searching for the enemy. Dan seemed to be moving his legs involuntarily, clutching his gun with not enough force. And then Clarke knew why. Surviving came to her like a second nature, and she just assumed it was the same for the rest of them, but as she looked at Dan she realized that he was terrified at the thought of an imminent death, that on the battlefield he'd retrieve to a safer place and abandon his friends. That was his second nature. Maybe if the Ark had been able to survive, he would've lived a happy, uneventful life, have a beautiful family and feel himself slowly get old while he watched the Earth beneath him age with him. The sight of a ghost dissipated her train of thoughts. The sight of _that_ ghost sucked her breath out of her. She forced her eyelids shut and flung them open in one quick motion. It hadn't gone away. Murphy was there. Staring back at her.

He was smiling. It wasn't a smirk, and she couldn't see any hint of arrogance in it. It was a genuine sympathetic smile. And it disgusted her. His smile made her stomach turn inside out. It made her contradict and doubt her own instincts. When it came to Murphy, Clarke tried to act as humane as possible, reinforcing her belief that they don't decide who lives and who dies. If it weren't for that he'd be lying on the ground, cold and with no sign of a pulse. After all, this was person who sought Charlotte's death, who was a biological weapon that killed 14 of their own, and the one responsible for their vulnerability in the Grounders attack, because he decided it was more important to use almost all of their gunpowder to save himself, and not the ones who took him in.


	2. We Need to Talk About the Grounders

Clarke stopped walking and looked back, waiting for Bellamy to catch up to her. She gave him a shy smile. He quickened his pace while attempting to hide a smile of his own. He had missed her. Bellamy knew that of all the wrong choices he had made, relying on Clarke was one of the rare few good ones. He glanced her way again. The worried expression she carried was enough to break his smile.

'What's wrong?' It was like no time had passed. Like she hadn't been captured by Grounders, and imprisoned somewhere he couldn't reach her. Like the Ark people had never come and completely ignored their experience, pushing them aside like little children. Like their people hadn't been taken hostage and now breathed in fear. They were alone out here. Nothing but the invisible barrier of air separated them.

'Why is Murphy here?' She said, facing forward.

'Does it bother you?'

'Yes.' He was taken aback by her bluntness.

'Weren't you the advocate for second chances, Clarke?' He said playfully, even though Murphy and playful are words that should never go together.

'You do realize that we've already given him more than four second chances, right?' He did. He avoided looking at Murphy and standing near him because he knew he couldn't trust himself to act right around him. Trust and Murphy were also words that shouldn't be used in the same sentence.

'As you know, I don't care much for him myself, but we thought he could lead us to the Grounder's base, to rescue the rest of us. Obviously, you got tired of waiting and decided to get out of there on your own.' He laughed as he said that. Clarke was toughest than all of them, and she certainly didn't need anyone to try and rescue her. In response, she gave him a humorless smile, and he fell silent.

'Right.' Her impotence at protecting her own people made it hard for her to breath. She had left them behind, albeit it was to get help. Still, she had left them alone and clueless and defenseless against the enemy dressed in white, disguised as an angel.

'We need to find shelter soon. It's getting dark, so keep on the lookout.' Bellamy said directing his words to the whole group. Clarke relaxed at the sound of his raspy voice, a familiar sound amongst a cacophony of misdirected screams.

At this hour, the shades of green of the vegetation got harder to distinguish, as did the Grounders shadows that might be lurking behind the trees. The sound of twigs breaking beneath their feet as they walked seemed to be heightened. They could hear their own heartbeats.

'What was that? I heard something!' Monroe cried out, stopping dead in her tracks. She pointed her gun at the air that surrounded her in a frantic motion, her eyes darted in every possible direction, her body turned from side to side and her feet shifted trying to keep up, causing twigs and old leaves to break and scream out their location to anyone who was willing to listen. Sterling was quick to imitate his friend, as if they were playing 'Simon says'. Bellamy kept his composure, crouching down and aiming his gun attentively at certain spots. Clarke rapidly ducked down and reached for the sharpest rock she could grab, readying herself for a one-on-one combat. Finn was now almost back-to-back with Bellamy, covering thoroughly every inch of wood. He realized he was ready to kill someone in cold blood, right then and there. He had to, in order to protect Clarke and the others. The image of blood oozing out of a whole he had made in that Grounder's head just the day before flashed across his eyes, his motionless tongue lolling on the ground. The whiplash sound of the gun kept replaying inside his head. He killed that Grounder out of necessity, so that they could carry on with their journey, and save Clarke. He was ready to do it again. Finn could feel his gradual detachment from life, but he hadn't the time to worry about it. He was fine. As long as he had Clarke.


	3. Death's Smile

His hands were cold. His blood was still warm. His eyes were drooping but they fixated on her eyes. He grunted as if he was merely displeased with this situation, but his pulse gave away his true feelings. His heart was sprinting. His hands travelled the length of his body, moving determinedly towards his right leg, and without so much as a flinch of hesitation he opened his hands like what he intended to do was as easy as picking a flower. She gently put his hands over his, urging him to stop.

'Don't, not yet. Okay?' Her voice was sweet and soothing. He trusted her.

'Whatever you say, Doc.' He managed to blurt out, in- between his heavy breathing and amidst a sea of pain.

She searched frantically for his hands and intertwined her fingers with his. Her vision was blurry with tears and she felt as though she might faint. She felt as if her lungs had collapsed and she breathed heavily, but managed to do so quietly so no one would take notice. They were counting on her to save his life. And they _needed_ him to keep them safe. She wondered when this would be over, or if they were destined to live like this for the rest of their mundane lives.

'Okay. Lay him over there.' It didn't matter where they laid him since everything was stone and dark and cold, but it gave her back some control.

'Gently. Monroe and Sterling, guard the entrance. And stay alert. Finn, the arrow is probably poisoned; I need Lincoln's antidote. Do you still have it? I need something strong to disinfect the wound.'

She raised her voice so that Monroe would be able to hear.

'Monroe start a small fire!' She stopped to recollect her thoughts, and thought out loud. 'I need to cauterize the wound'.

This was his fault. The group was vulnerable because of him. He was supposed to keep them alive and lead them to safety. Not get their friends killed. He should've seen that arrow coming, somehow. It came out of nowhere, and planted itself in the middle of his right thigh. Ripping his flesh apart, to lodge itself there. Finn saw him first, and dragged him to where they were now. A small cavern that sheltered them from the rain that now poured outside, but nothing else. It was as visible as fireflies were in the dark of the night. He couldn't help but wonder why the Grounders hadn't followed them and ended things right then and there. Why had they shot only one meager arrow? The pain jumbled his thoughts and these questions now seemed petty. The cave appeared to be getting dimmer by the second, but Clarke's crystal blue eyes acted like a way back home. He tried to focus on them. The sounds around him got muffled, but he managed to hear what she was saying. When he heard her ask for something he knew he had, he tried to help, glad to be of some service in saving his life.

'Antidote-left front pocket.' He said as he lifted his hand to point to his bag. Even this simple gesture was made complex by the loss of blood and conscience. It took an immensurable amount of concentration for him to speak. Finn heard this and went over to his bag to rummage through his stuff.

'Bellamy, stay with me.' Clarke said, and as she said that she squeezed his hand even tighter than before. He smiled at the thought that if his leg wound turned out not to be fatal, perhaps a tear in his hand would do the deed, which seemed completely realistic judging by how hard Clarke held his hand. But he didn't want her to let go.

'Stay with me, okay?' Her voice cracked this time. His inability to do something to comfort her, and the fact that he was the reason for her agony, outraged him, to the point where he wondered if he was capable of getting up fueled solely by that overpowering feeling.

'Not going anywhere, princess.' He managed to say it just loud enough so that she could hear. She began to smile as she tore up the bottom of her shirt.

Finn walked over to her, handing her a small bottle containing a green-pigmented pulp. Clarke took it willingly, and handed him her knife.

'Heat this up on the fire Monroe made. It needs to be scorching.' She looked at Finn. Whilst Bellamy had looked onto Clarke for strength, it was clear she looked to Finn for that same strength.

'Clarke…' He reached into his jacket's pocket. 'Monty's stuff.' He gave her the flask containing what he was sure was the strongest disinfectant ever made by any man.

'_Now_ we have to take the spear out. Do you want to do it or should I?' Clarke laughed, and Bellamy simpered the best he could. 'Since you're not talking much I'm going to go ahead and do it. And this is the easy part.' Maybe she was simply nervous and trying to hide it, but he wished she were like this more often. He wished this world had been more forgiving on her, and he wished he could be there the next time she laughed. And then he could wish for no more. Bellamy could feel no more. Darkness enveloped him. Life washed-out.


	4. The Ghosts of Life

Silence had a way of elucidating the words unspoken

They find a place to hide. The group gets separated into different hiding places. Bellamy and Clarke and Monroe are together. Clarke tells them about mount Weather. Bellamy tells what happened to them and about the Ark.

They wake up to the Grounders circling them and offering for them to work together on . This is because Kane went and negotiated with them.

Finn gets drunk or infected or hallucinated and turns on Clarke because of her unreciprocated feelings for him now. He acts violently. Says he risked his life for hers and she owes it to him that she's alive. Mentions the time they had sex. Bellamy intervenes for Clarke. Then C. and B. talk.

She held up the piece of cloth she tore from her shirt and drenched it with Monty's concoction.

And as she lay on her side, eyes wide open; she allowed a storm of emotions to cloud her thoughts. A thousand images hit her. Her friends smiling over breakfast, a full plate in front of them. Their peaceful countenance as they slept in their beds, while lifeless corpses hung upside down just behind their walls. People amounted on top of each other, like incarcerated animals, forced to watch their friends bleed to death as they prepared themselves for a similar fate. The thump of the hard rock as it hit Anya's skull, knocking her the ground. In that moment of weakness, cowardice had overpowered Clarke and she couldn't bring herself to kill Anya, who undoubtedly in the same situation would flense her, and now her friends. It was because of her that Bellamy lay unmoving besides her. Anya had surely been quick to gather a group of Grounders and follow them into the woods. That feeling of guilt ate away her nails. Grounders might be watching them right now, simply waiting, for something. Instead of protecting those who slept by her side, she turned out to be their demise.

A swift movement followed by a grunt she recognized all too well caught her attention. She turned her body around so that she could see Bellamy. His brown eyes, so deep you could easily get lost in them, adjusted to the bright light from the sun. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to get his bearings straight. Clarke was grateful he had passed out when he did. The pain from having a red-hot knife press down against your skin was one she hoped none of them would ever had to experience.

'How are you feeling?' His heart fell at ease by the sound of her voice. His legs began to move before his mind had time to remember last night, and then an acute pain shot up his leg.

'Like an arrow pierced my leg, so... peachy.'

'That's better than yesterday. Try not to move unnecessarily, it will just make it worse. We're going to improvise some crutches, but for the time being you're going to have to piggyback.' Bellamy's face contorted into a painting of pure disbelief and horror. 'Or you could just lean on one of us the whole way. It's your choice.' She had a light smile on her face as she said it. Bellamy reached for her arm.

'Clarke. Thank you. You could've left me there.' He said humbly.

'We would've never left you, Bellamy. Come on, we need to plan how we're going to save our people.'

Finn had offered to stay guard all night. He wasn't going to sleep anyways; he might as well make himself useful. The night had been peaceful and starry. Until yesterday, until a moment of absolute hopelessness where they would've had no means of fending for themselves against the heavily armed Grounders, he had never stopped to wonder about the stars on Earth. On the ark, they surrounded him, but on Earth, these ethereal beings shone their light upon them, trying to guide them home. As Clarke and Bellamy walked over to join him, a look of determination glued to their faces, Sterling and Monroe had just woken up, looking as worried as ever. Finn hurried over to help Bellamy, or to break him away from Clarke. He didn't know which.

Bellamy had been set on walking without anyone's help. He knew he could manage the pain. He wasn't going to be deadweight and slow them down. But when Clarke offered so nicely, he thought it'd be rude to not accept her help. He didn't have to act so tough around her. They had been through too much together. So, he put his arm around her and they went on walking as if nothing were.

Sterling pulled out some rations from his bag and distributed them around the group. Clarke had no idea where they had gotten food from, but she couldn't think any further without having some sustenance in her. She hadn't had a drop of water or food for the past two days. She was famished, but she ate the nuts and berries slowly, knowing it would be no good to gulp them all at once. Once they settled down she began to tell them the tales of her story. She was thorough and careful not miss any important details. She told them how the Mount Weather guards had captured them as soon as they stepped out of the drop ship. How they were quarantined in a room that had very little in it, but more then they had ever had on Earth. A comfy bed, a decent bathroom and a painting. She mentioned only in passing the abundance of color that filled their plates on meals, for she didn't want to brag at the expense of their empty stomachs. She numbered all the conniving lies she had been fed, and how the rest of them accepted them as truth, no questions asked. When it came to tell them that she opened her own wounds up to go to the Hospital Ward, she had to admit that she did sound a bit insane, and she got some angry vibes from Bellamy and Finn. The sky seemed to have turned appropriately darker when Clarke went on to tell them about the lifeless corpses that Mount Weather used to get blood from and the people that were kept locked in minuscule cages, waiting to die. The group listened silently as they heard how she broke Anya free, only to be made a prisoner of hers, and her voice cracked when she spoke of how she got away. She quickly said 'I managed to run, and the rest is history', thinking she was a coward for not taking the blame for last night's attack, which wounded Bellamy. She wasn't strong enough to kill Anya and now all of them were suffering for her mistakes.

Right then, the sound of a shot pierced the sky, disturbing the wildlife around it. A loud, female voice followed, and Clarke instantly recognized. She hoped she was grossly mistaken.

'Clarke Griffin, we have you surrounded. You and your friends are trapped. Step out now!'

Anya. She had come after all.


End file.
